


A Fine And Glittery Mess

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-21
Updated: 2004-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 04:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1632401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ivan gets in touch with his glittery side.  Miles and Pym practice their poker faces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fine And Glittery Mess

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Grey Bard

 

 

A Fine And Glittery Mess

Ivan swore under his breath and wondered for the umpteenth-million time just _how_ he had gotten into this mess. Oh, of course he knew the course of events and knew literally what steps had led to him sitting in the corner of a grungy holding cell in the detention center of Vorbarr Sultana at two in the morning, wearing nothing but a vibrant, fluffy, pink robe and some residual glitter. He was however, having trouble believing that the past few hours had actually happened.

Ivan was grateful for the presence of the ten or so people who occupied the cell with him. Many of them were drunk, under the influence of some drug, or had simply been picked up for prostitution or some other disorderly conduct. Some appeared to be all of the above. A slender androgynous man leaned against the dirty wall next to the bench where Ivan was seated. His dark hair was slicked back and sharp features were augmented by dramatic makeup. He noticed Ivan staring at him and scowled, turning away to nudge and whisper something into the ear of a burly red-haired giant of a man, who smelled of cheap wine and was using the wall for balance more than as a casual prop.

Ivan sighed and firmly resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall. _Miles, where the hell are you?_ he thought. Sighing inwardly, he inched to the end of the bench as a the red-haired man lost his grip on the wall and lurched forward, coming perilously close to Ivan's personal space. He felt like he had _Vor_ tattooed on his forehead and would have worried that someone might notice the expensive tailoring of his clothing, except that he wasn't wearing any. _Damnit Miles, I spoke with you 40 minutes ago. How long can it take for a lightflyer to get here from Vorkosigan House anyway?_

Ivan glanced up at the sounds of measured footsteps and voices that weren't coming from the crowd around him. _Speak of the devil._ Ivan watched in relief as a familiar, short, gray-clad figure rounded the corner of the hall by the holding cell. Miles was flanked by two tall law enforcement officers who were ostensibly in the position of leading him to Ivan, yet they looked, as so many people did around Miles, like they were being propelled by him. There was something about the body language, although Ivan couldn't quite put his finger on it. Perhaps it was simply Miles' sheer force of personality, for which Ivan privately held a theory he had developed it in order to compensate for _something_ other than his height.

Ivan thought he had never been so glad to see his cousin before in his life. Although he was not looking forward to explaining how he had ended up in the particular predicament to Miles, who, Ivan knew, would be amused beyond description. However, despite the amount of ribbing Miles would undoubtedly give Ivan later for this situation, it would be infinitely more preferable to any reaction Ivan's mother would have. Ivan silently and fervently thanked his lucky stars that Miles had answered the chime of his comconsole at this ungodly hour of the morning.

The gratitude Ivan felt towards his cousin couldn't keep him from cringing inwardly as Miles and the officers halted before the cell. Ivan stood quickly and elbowed his way to the front of the crowd, trying not to trip on the ridiculous robe. Miles nodded to the man on his right in recognition of Ivan, who unlocked the cell and beckoned to Ivan to exit. Ivan shuffled out, feeling extremely conspicuous and trying not to meet Miles' eye. Mercifully Miles was keeping his mirth under control and his face was impassive, except for a slight twitch of his mouth as he took in Ivan's strange apparel.

"Milord, if you'll just step this way," said the man who'd unlocked the cell, " We can finish the necessary paperwork and you can be on your way." Ivan made a vaguely affirmative sound and followed Miles and his escort, feeling like the gazes of his former cellmates were boring holes in his back.

* * *

As soon as they were completely checked out and safely ensconced in the back of the lightflyer (driven by a wonderfully poker-faced Pym), Ivan breathed in a huge sigh of relief and turned to Miles.

"Miles, thank god you came! I thought for sure I'd have to call my mother or worse, Simon and explain this to her." He indicated vaguely his clothes or lack thereof.   
"They would only allow me to call someone since I had no identification on me or way of paying bail and it was freezing co- Miles?"

Ivan stopped as he realized that his cousin was barely listening, but instead shaking with silent laughter, eyes squeezed shut in mirth.   
Realizing that it was useless to try and converse with Miles right now, Ivan sighed and sagged back against the seat, rubbing his eyes and managing to transfer glitter from his face to his hands and, Ivan noted with some small measure of satisfaction, to the immaculate upholstery of the seats.

By the time Miles' laughter subsided, there were tears coming out of the corners of his eyes and his pale skin was flushed.  
"What. In. The. World. Did you do tonight?" Miles' words struggled out in a staccato punctuated by laughter. Ivan scowled; he'd finally reduced Miles into a state of near speechlessness and yet it was nothing like any situation of the type he would have wished for.

"How did you manage to lose your clothing, your identification and end in the station at this time, no ANY time, in that that thing? And the glitter? You look like a doll a child dressed up for a sparkle contest." Miles was almost spluttering.

Ivan sighed and self-consciously rubbed his hand along his thigh in an attempt to rid it of the worst of the glitter. "Um, well it's kind of long and complicated to explain."  
Miles' eyes were fever-bright. "I can hardly imagine how it wouldn't be. Do tell."  
Ivan hesitated. Some of the earlier parts of the evening were a little fuzzier than he'd like. "Well it all started when Byerly showed up at my door around eight last night."  
Miles looked slightly more enlightened. When Byerly was involved, things tended to get interesting. That was one word for it anyway.

"He convinced me to go out for drinks with some of his friends. I didn't really feel like going out that night because I'd been up late the night before, but By was persistent and so finally I said yes and decided that it might be a nice way to spend the evening. Maybe I'd meet someone attractive who wasn't married. For once." Ivan tried to keep the resentment out of his tone, not wishing to seem too transparent and desperate to his happily married cousin.

A flash of something, perhaps pity, softened Miles' features, but fortunately he didn't say anything in response to that last remark.

Ivan continued, determined to move on from that subject. "So anyways, we spent an hour or so at a bar By chose and had had quite a few drinks by then. It was suggested that we head to a strip club and it didn't seem like a bad idea at the time."  
Miles nodded. "Go on."

"I went along with them, obviously." Ivan said wryly. "And By ordered me this special drink, which in retrospect was probably what started all the trouble. It was," he said fervently, "The most vilely strong alcoholic mix I think I've ever drank. And I've drunk quite a few strong drinks in the past few years."

"I know. I've been with you for some of those, I believe," Miles said wryly.  
Ivan nodded, reminiscing, " I was really drunk by now and there was this girl sitting next to me at the bar. She was pretty enough to catch my attention, but I was too drunk to realize that she was a girl-for-hire."

Miles raised his eyebrows. "Sitting at the bar?"  
Ivan felt like he was being debriefed. "Yes, I know, it was a seedy bar, ok?" he said defensively.

"And somehow, I'm not quite sure what the actual course of events was, the drink was hitting me pretty strong by then, I ended up in a back room with her and then she asked me for money. Now I was drunk, but this clued me in and I started to leave, but I tripped over something, and um...passed out." Ivan coughed.

Miles opened his mouth to say something and Ivan hurriedly continued, knowing that if he stopped now, he would be too embarrassed to finish the story.

"I guess By and his friends thought I had gone to her place, because when I woke up they were gone and I was wearing this. Apparently it was a slow night there and the girl I had propositioned had thought it would be fun to get some of her friends and then play doll with me." Ivan eyed his outfit ruefully.   
Miles' eyebrows were now approaching his hairline.

"Before I could leave, the place was surrounded by police, because obviously with the way my luck was going, tonight would be the night that they would be tipped off to the fact that this strip club was running a prostitution business on the side. They arrested me along with the rest of those who were in the building. Not surprisingly, they didn't believe my story. I wouldn't believe my story." Ivan finished with a sigh, glancing out the window at the outside of the lightflyer. They were almost to his apartment, he noted with relief.

Miles steepled his fingers. He still looked amused, but his initial reaction of uncontrolled mirth had passed. " If it wasn't you, Ivan, I wouldn't believe it either. But that combined with the presence of By..." His eyes crinkled and Ivan was sure he was imagining relating the tale to Ekaterin later. Oh great.

The vehicle slowed to a halt in front of Ivan's apartment with Pym's usual smooth deceleration. Ivan sat up straight and prepared to exit.   
"Uh, thanks, Miles. I really owe you for this," He said sheepishly. "I'll pay you back for the bail tomorrow. Will you be home?"

Miles nodded, "Yes, Ekaterin and I will both be there tomorrow. Shall we expect you around early afternoon? Ma Kosti usually has an excellent tea on Saturdays."

"That sounds good," Ivan said, "And Miles?"

"Yes?"

Ivan's voice was very small, "Could you please not tell more people about this than you have to?"

The sides of Miles' mouth quirked again. "I can do that, Ivan. You've done similarly for me in the past. Fair's fair. I'm just glad you're only embarrassed, and not injured."

Ivan felt a rush of heartfelt gratitude. "Thanks Miles," he said sincerely and climbed out of the lightflyer. Perhaps the evening, or rather morning, had not been a complete disaster. Feeling insensibly cheered, Ivan raised a hand in farewell as Pym and Miles departed. He glanced apprehensively around the street to see if he had any observers, gathered the pink robe and the remnants of his dignity around him and went to take a long hot shower and find clothing. He just hoped the damn glitter would come off easily.

*Finis*

 


End file.
